


Blackbird

by Dormchi



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Slash, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 03:39:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dormchi/pseuds/Dormchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam has this nasty habit of waking up in exotic locations.</p><p>It’s all Gabriel’s fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackbird

Sam has this nasty habit of waking up in exotic locations.

It’s all Gabriel’s fault.

The first time it had been a dream-filled trip to Bali. Sam had woken up in the warm embrace of the summer sun, the ocean breeze teasing at his hair. It had all been very peaceful until he realized he had passed out in a shitty motel with Dean and woken up in a hammock by the sea. He had flopped around in the hammock and fell ungracefully into the sand, spitting out a gritty mouthful as Gabriel appeared with drinks garnished with purple umbrellas.

Flustered and chewing on sand, Sam had exploded at Gabriel and demanded to be put back into his shitty motel room right fucking now.

Gabriel obliged, and Sam thought that was the end of it.

Months later, Sam had been stirred from his dreams by the bleating of sheep. And the bed, well. It was softer than any he had ever slept on, making his initial panic sink with the rest of him in a too-soft mattress and satin sheets that slid along his bare skin in an almost sinful way. He was definitely a little more impressed, mostly because this bed wouldn’t be so easy to fall out of. It was enormous.

“We’re in Scotland,” Gabriel explained from somewhere to Sam’s left.

“That’s nice,” Sam replied sleepily. “Send me back.”

He saw Gabriel’s confused expression through one bleary eye before the snap of the archangel’s fingers deposited Sam back in his skeevy motel room. Dean threw a punch out of pure instinct when Sam appeared next to him in bed and Sam flailed briefly before falling over the side.

Cheeky asshole couldn’t even put him back in his own bed.

The third time, Gabriel takes Sam away in the middle of research.

“Alright, listen to me,” Sam hisses, standing awkwardly in what he can only assume is a baby’s nursery and wondering why the hell Gabriel picked here of all places. He jabs at Gabriel’s chest with a finger several times to make his point. “Quit it with the angel mojo and zapping me any damn place you please. Just because there’s a little bit of mutual attraction and I admitted some things…”

“How’s my baby?” a woman’s voice coos from across the room.

Gabriel says nothing, just lays a hand on Sam’s shoulder and points to the very much alive Mary Winchester entering the room.

The angry words die on Sam’s lips as he watches his mother reach into the crib and pull a squirming baby into her arms.

“Gabriel,” Sam whispers, practically feeling the color drain from his face. “When are we?”

“October 2nd, 1983,” Gabriel says matter-of-factly, leaning casually against the wall. “Baby Sam there is five months old.”

“Can she see us?”

“Nope. I wouldn’t recommend it, either. Two grown men suddenly appearing in your nursery might raise some alarms.”

It takes Sam nearly five minutes to remember how to speak. He watches as his mother holds Baby Sam in her arms, beaming down at him exactly how Sam had imagined she would. He blinks rapidly against the stinging in his eyes, determined to not break down and cry.

Watching his mother is making that more and more difficult. She bounces Baby Sam softly as she walks around the room, wearing the brightest and most beautiful smile that Sam has ever seen. She hums a little at first, and Sam’s tears spill uninhibited down his cheeks when she starts to sing Hey Jude.

The fact that this affection wasn’t something reserved solely for Dean is something of a revelation. Sam had always feared that Mary Winchester knew deep down that her youngest child was destined for terrible things, that he was born a freak of nature. But Mary loved Sam unconditionally in this moment, every moment before it, and all the moments leading up to her death. That truth gently lifts one of his heaviest burdens off of his shoulders, one he’s been carrying around since he was old enough to understand why his mother wasn’t around and would never be around again.

“Gabriel, you unbelievable bastard,” Sam sobs, but he’s laughing through his tears and his voice is all sorts of distressed and hysterical.

Gabriel looks concerned and a little certain that he’s screwed up again. He squeezes Sam’s shoulder gently and says, “Hey, kiddo, let’s uh… let’s go, yeah? I won’t zap you anywhere else. Cross my heart.”

“No,” Sam gasps, still laughing and sobbing as he falls to his knees. His mother, completely unaware, finishes singing and her voice picks up immediately with Blackbird. Sam wonders if she had to choose another Beatles song to sing to him after Hey Jude because he was fussier than Dean and more stubborn about sleeping.

Seemingly pleased with this, Baby Sam yawns and closes his eyes.

Another five minutes pass and Mary kisses Baby Sam’s forehead before laying him down in his crib. When she leaves the room, Sam wipes at his face absently with the back of his hand and looks up at Gabriel. The archangel looks uncharacteristically anxious, so Sam grabs his wrist and pulls him down to his knees.

“Oof—hey, Sam, what…”

Sam pulls Gabriel into the tightest hug he can give and buries his face in Gabriel’s shoulder. He’s managed to mostly stay the tears and hysterical sobs, but his body trembles slightly.

Gabriel waits patiently, happily acting as the shoulder to lean on that Sam needs in that moment.

Feeling a bit more collected, Sam turns his head and brushes his nose against the outer shell of Gabriel’s ear, making the archangel shiver.

“Thank you, Gabriel.”


End file.
